The Second Chance

by Ann Maree Craven

  When I pulled up outside Grandma’s front gates, the entire day looked brighter than it had. I smiled as I pushed open the front door, stopping as a cacophony of voices reached me.

  I could pick out Mrs. Peterson’s voice and Mrs. Abernathy’s coming from the kitchen. And then, a low chuckle that had my blood sizzling underneath my skin. As I rounded the corner, all I could see was the way he’d looked when I kicked him out of the office after the kiss.

  But now, when Carter glanced up to watch me walk in, the hurt was gone from his eyes, replaced with excitement. And I realized why. Each of the women had a copy of the Weekly Wine.

  Grandma wiped her hands on her apron and walked toward me, pulling me into a soft hug. “I’m so proud of you, honey.”

  When I pulled back, I noticed something smelled delicious. “What are you cooking?”

  Grandma smiled and gestured to the waffle maker. “We’re having a celebration breakfast.”

  “Why? What are we celebrating?”

  They all gaped at me, and Carter looked to be shaking in laughter.

  “This.” Mrs. Abernathy lifted her copy of the Weekly Wine.

  Grandma kissed the side of my head. “You put an entire paper together by yourself, and in this house, we celebrate accomplishments.”

  “It wasn’t all by myself. I had Stevie, and help from Carter too.”

  “Harper,” Grandma whispered, “just let us be proud.”

  Tears danced in my eyes as I looked around the room. For so many years, everything I’d done had been met with grunts of approval or brief nods. If I was lucky, I’d get a “good work,” which was more than I got growing up.

  When I won a journalism award from my college, my parents couldn’t make the ceremony because they had a previous engagement. When I got an A on a test in school, they’d look at the few questions I’d missed and ask why I hadn’t known those answers.

  “What is this?” Mrs. Peterson’s angry voice made me wipe away the tears.

  “Something wrong?”

  She slammed the paper on the counter and pointed to the interview I’d done with the mayor. “You interviewed Harrison Ashford and didn’t even ask if he wore boxers or briefs?”

  “Um …” All three of the old women cackled as my face flushed, probably turning as red as a tomato.

  “Briefs,” Carter said.

  They all turned to stare at him.

  He shrugged. “He’s my cousin. I know things.”

  I couldn’t keep the smile from my face. “Grandma, when will the waffles be done?”

  “Not for another twenty minutes or so. I’m letting the batter rest.”

  “Perfect.” I hooked a finger at Carter. “Come with me.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  “The last time I was in here, I almost died climbing out that window.” I laughed as I followed Harper into her room. It was like entering a world from another time, and the memories came rushing back.

  A round yellow rug covered the wood floor underneath her white cloaked bed. They complimented the pale purple walls and white gauzy curtains. Everything was a bit more faded, but this room still screamed with color. It was impossible to be in a gloomy mood among the bright pops of yellows, purples, and blues.

  “Grandma told me she never had the time or energy to do anything with my room.” Harper sat on the corner of her bed and looked around. “I think it made her feel like the house was even emptier when she considered turning this into a sewing room or something.”

  “Your grandmother doesn’t sew.”

  She laughed. “Don’t I know it.”

  Mrs. Chapman was the best at everything. She was always cooking and baking, never sitting still. She ran volunteer organizations throughout the town, helped out at the elementary school, and was active in her church. But her husband used to do all their sewing.

  Harper’s smile turned sad. “I miss him.”

  I knew she was talking about her grandfather. He’d been so good to both of us. “Me too.”

  “Do you remember the first time he ever caught you in here?”

  I’d never forget that night. “He chased me down the road in the dark, screaming about how he cared about me and wanted me to do better. It was the weirdest lecture I’ve ever had, because it also felt like he wanted to kill me, and we were running and screaming at each other.”

  “He was terrible at the whole lecture thing. He always just wanted to be the fun grandpa.”

  I leaned against her desk and crossed my arms. “After that, we just made sure he never heard me in here.”

  We were so into each other during those years we could hardly stand to be apart. As the summer grew on and we got closer to her leaving, I would spend nights in her bed just holding her, pretending if I held on long enough they couldn’t take her from me.

  It hadn’t worked.

  I wanted to reach out and touch her cheek, I wanted to kiss her, to relive the moment when I thought she would kiss me back two nights ago. For a split second, it had been unadulterated happiness. Then, it was ripped away. And I needed to know why.

  “Do people really like the paper?”

  It wasn’t the question I expected her to ask, but the vulnerability in her voice made me push anything I wanted to the back of my mind. She came first. Always.

  Pushing off the desk, I hesitated a moment before sitting beside her on the bed. We’d sat like this a million times before, but there was an awkwardness to it now.

  “They love it,” I whispered.

  She turned to look at me, and she was so close I could see her eyes changing color to a darker, stormy green. “Really?”

  I smiled, growing bold as I tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “You’re talented, Harper. Why don’t you believe it?”

  I was so impressed by her, not only by her ability but her dedication. She’d given everything she had to make that issue what it was.

  “I’m not.”

  She tried to look away, but I put a finger under her chin and tilted her face up. “Whoever made you believe you have to hide yourself was wrong.” I wanted her to see what I saw, to take pride in what she’d accomplished.

  “I’m not used to anyone celebrating me.”

  Her words nearly cracked me right open. My thumb grazed her cheek, tracing the curve of her jaw, the edges of her lips. “Everyone deserves to be celebrated.” I imagined her parents were much like mine, but I’d always had Lena and my grandfather.

  And memories of my mom. I knew without a doubt she’d loved me.

  “Carter.” My name came out on a sigh, and I drew my hand back.

  “I need to know, Harper. The kiss …”

  She closed her eyes for a brief moment, and when they opened, she looked broken, shattered beyond repair. “I can’t think about the kiss.”

  “You have to.”

  She stood, getting some distance from me. “No.” She put her hands on her head and turned away from me.

  “Isn’t that why you wanted to bring me up here? To talk about this?”

  Turning on her heel, she faced me once again. Her hands lowered, and she hugged her arms across her body. “I wanted us to get past it, to be able to be friends. Carter, I need you, but I don’t know how I feel about anything right now. I just mailed my divorce papers this morning. This morning.”

  As happy as I was to hear that, I was sad for her as well. But it didn’t change anything. “Don’t you feel it, Harper? This, us, it’s still here.” I gestured from her to me, trying desperately to make her see. We could go back in time, we could be the people we were.

  I just needed her to believe it.

  “I can’t.”

  I stood, keeping myself from walking forward, from invading her space. I couldn’t push her, refused to force her to listen to me. That was no way to start a relationship, no way to treat a woman. But I couldn’t give up, not when everything she’d once destroyed had finally started to heal. “It’s here.”

  She shook her head. “The k
iss didn’t mean anything.”

  The words were a lie. I could tell. “A kiss with you is never meaningless.”

  A tear rolled down her cheek. “I don’t know what you want me to say. You and Lena want me to jump into something I’m not sure is a good idea.”

  “What does Lena have to do with any of this?”

  “She talked to me about you, and Carter, I’m so sorry for how badly I hurt you. I don’t want to keep doing it, but I don’t know how to stop.”

  “You just stop, Harper. That’s what you do.” I tore out of her room and thundered down the stairs. All three women stared at me as I passed the kitchen, but I wouldn’t be staying for breakfast now.

  Anger burned through me, but not at Harper. I wasn’t sure I could ever be mad at her. All my rage was aimed inward. I’d been such an idiot, again, thinking this time, things could be different.

  But that was the thing with me and Harper, our timing was never right.

  The only way I’d ever known how to blow off anger was speeding. Driving cleared my head, and I needed that a lot over the years as I constantly disappointed the people around me. Harper had been the one who’d believed in me back when not even my family had.

  The day I got into college, my father made sure to let me know it was because he had made a sizable donation. And I drove straight across the border that night to hide out in St. John for a few days.

  Maybe that was what I needed, a long drive and a few days away. Putting Superiore Bay in my rearview mirror, I kept pushing my Ferarri faster and faster. When I came upon a car, I zoomed around it, eliciting a series of honks I barely heard.

  With the music cranked up I almost couldn’t hear myself think, and that was how I liked it. I used to believe Harper would come back to me, and when she did, we’d pick up right where we left off. No need for apologies or forgiveness.

  She’d understand my listlessness, and I wouldn’t feel so lost anymore because she was my true north. I knew what Lena would say to that. I couldn’t rely on another person to make me happy, that I wouldn’t be happy in any relationship until I was happy outside of one.

  But that had always been the power of Harper. When I was with her, I saw myself better. My passions, if they were there at all, became clearer. I was years out of college and still had no idea what I wanted to do with my life.

  All I knew was I wanted it to be with her.

  I had always wanted that.

  The music softened as my ringtone came through the car speakers. Lena’s name appeared on the screen, but I ignored the call. A few moments later, Conner called me.

  I had no energy for my family, not today.

  Remembering everything Harper had accomplished brought a smile to my face.

  I crossed through Hidden Cove, passing their multitude of chocolate shops and tourist hot spots. The beaches were crowded this time of year, and I envied the carefree way people enjoyed themselves.

  Maybe Conrad had the right idea. He’d moved out to an island where his only neighbors were a herd of wild horses.

  My phone rang again, and I sighed, not even bothering to look. Lena was probably just getting everyone to check on me, but if I didn’t answer for her, I wouldn’t answer for anyone else. Besides, I was fine. The drive had already worked its magic.

  I rolled my window down, breathing in the salty air as I slowed. What was I thinking? Kissing a woman who’d literally just signed her divorce papers. It didn’t matter that it was Harper. That it was us. Of course she needed time to breathe. Time to heal. And if I was any kind of friend at all, I’d give her whatever she needed. There would be time for us later.

  This time, when my phone rang, I checked the screen, my heart stopping when Harper’s name flashed across it.

  I had to go back. Nothing that needed said could be said over the phone. I ignored the call and searched for a place I could do a U-turn. I’m coming, Harper. Even if I couldn’t make her believe in us, I’d make her believe in herself. She wanted to be friends, and I would give that to her. No expectations, no attempts to kiss her.

  Because I loved her, I would act like I didn’t. She needed me, and I would be a fool not to be there for her. I felt like such an idiot for storming out, for demanding more than she was ready to give.

  There was an intersection up ahead, so I accelerated, wanting to be on my way back as fast as I could. I started to turn seconds before the screech of breaks rang in my ears.

  Metal crunched, as flimsy as a piece of paper clutched in a fist, but as loud as rolling thunder. My head snapped back, tendons stretching and sending a shock of pain along my nerves as my door caved in. Glass rained down around me, and the last thing I thought before everything went dark was, What an odd day for a storm.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Conrad Ashford!” I shot out the front door of the Weekly Wine office and jogged down the sidewalk. “Conrad! I need to talk to you!” I called again, drawing closer. Except I didn’t notice when he stopped, and I ran right into him.

  Him and his pet fox, I wasn’t expecting. The fox bark-screamed at me, skipping between me and Conrad like he thought I was going to hurt his human.

  “Down, Red.” Conrad made a noise like a horse nickering, and the fox immediately sat down on his rump and glared at me.

  “Sorry.” I took a deep breath. I was not a runner.

  “Was there something I could help you with … Miss?”

  “It’s Harper Chapman. Carter’s friend from way back.” I should have known he wouldn’t remember me. Conrad had always been the strong, silent, unobservant type.

  “Oh, right. The summer girlfriend.” Conrad nodded, shifting uneasily on his feet.

  “Um, sure, we’ll go with that.” I shrugged it off. “Anyway, I’m back in Superiore Bay for a while, running the Weekly Wine, and I was really hoping to do a feature story on you and the Corolla Sanctuary. You know I worked there one summer before you took over? Back then, it wasn’t much of an operation, but I’ve heard great things about what you’ve done there. I’d love to come out and talk to you about it sometime.”

  He gave a grunt of annoyance and shook his head. “No thanks.” He turned to leave. “You’re welcome to take the tour and use whatever information from our website that might help you.”

  “Well, now wait a minute.” I followed him. “A tell-all feature story could bring a lot of useful attention to the sanctuary. It could bring in donations and sponsors.” Conrad was still walking away, and I had to hurry my steps to keep up with his long stride. “It would be great for the community to get an up close and personal look at what you do there.”

  Conrad stopped, and I ran into him … again. It was kind of like running into a towering brick wall. An intimidating one.

  “No offense,” Conrad gave me a grimace of a smile, “but the Weekly Wine audience is a bunch of old ladies who like to gossip. They’re not the kind of people I want nosing around my island.”

  His island? I didn’t remember Conrad being such a jerk before. But I didn’t remember much about him other than him being Carter’s ruggedly handsome, quiet, older brother.

  “No offense, but it’s not exactly your island, is it? The last I checked, the Corolla Island Sanctuary was a national wildlife reserve.”

  “It is. And I run it. So, it’s my island, and I get to say who comes in contact with the herd. Take the tour, Miss. It will give you everything you need for a local story.”

  He didn’t give me another opportunity to speak before he whistled for his fox to follow him to his truck parked on the street.

  “Jerk,” I muttered as I walked back to my office. There was a story there. I could feel it. And it wasn’t an obvious story about the wild horses that called the island sanctuary home. There was something deeper there. A story about the man who’d left his family and fortune behind to become a large animal veterinarian, and then isolated himself on that island where his only company was with the horses he cared for and a thieving fox.

  I would
get that story, someday. Maybe I just needed to prove to the Conrad Ashfords of the world that my paper wasn’t just a silly gossip rag. Not anymore.

  “You’re not going to believe this,” Stevie called from the back room when I stepped into the office.

  “What’s up?” I sank down into my desk chair. The first edition of the Weekly Wine under my management had been a success, but if I wanted to take us to the next level, I needed real news. The kind of story that could shake this town up.

  “The Lily of the Alley Gift Shop is going out of business!” Stevie slammed a fresh cup of coffee on my desk, sloshing it onto my pristine leather desk pad.

  “Thanks.” I took a sip of the coffee, wiping the sides of the cup with my sleeve. “Wait, did you say the Lily of the Alley? That shop has been here since … forever.”

  “I know! Mrs. O’Brien’s family has been in business there for five generations. It’s like losing a piece of Superiore Bay history. Not to mention their location is prime real estate on the Boulevard. It’s going to be a war to see who lands that space. I bet people are already lining up with bribes to get Mrs. O’Brien to sell to them.”

  “Why is she selling?” I scribbled some notes on a scrap of paper, wondering if there was a story here.

  “She doesn’t have anyone to take over when she retires. Her kids all left the bay area, and no one in her family is interested in running the shop.” Stevie paced in front of my desk. “It’s the beginning of the end, Harper! First the Lily of the Alley, and then it’ll be the Rusty Spoon and A Likely Story, maybe even the Bath Babes.”

  “Why them?” I reached out to stop Stevie’s nervous pacing. “How much coffee have you had, girl?”

  “Just a few cappuccinos.” She flopped onto the seat in front of my desk. “All the shopkeepers are getting old. They want to retire, but they don’t have anyone to take over for them. We’re going to start losing all the best places, and our town square is going to die. Where am I going to buy soap if Mrs. Fletcher has to sell her shop? She’s like ninety.”